


The End of the Night

by hallwayperson



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 05:14:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14128875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hallwayperson/pseuds/hallwayperson
Summary: Set around season 11.





	The End of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Set around season 11.

“This is how it ends,” I tell him on a crisp October night, him trapped in the claws of anxiety once again. His breathing is shallow and the shaking insistent. His back is cold and clammy pressed to my chest as I hold him the best I can while caressing his arms. “It ends with you and me. It always has and it always will.” **  
**

He’s reaching for my hand, our fingers intertwining in an unbreakable seal.

“Scu… Dana,” he mutters meekly. My name reserved for these fleeting moments only. An assurance that it’s really me. It’s a promise more than anything. By now, he understands that I’m not going anywhere.

“I’m here,” I whisper to his ear as I nuzzle his neck softly. “It’ll be okay.”

Where I go, he will follow. Likewise, I will follow him. Where he believes, I will trust the best I can. Or I will challenge him. That’s the contract, our contract, an oath to each other. And it’s a perfected one too.

In the beginning, he would stand silently, pleadingly, at my door. Words would be lost on him. This man who always seemed to have words and theories for everything. I knew it had to be something bad to have silenced him like that. I’d only have to look him in the eyes to see how bad it was. An all-consuming fear getting the better of him. I’d let him in and he’d just hug me tightly, not letting go of me for a long time. He always started shaking uncontrollably as soon as he reached me. I’d just hold him.

In the beginning, it pained me to see him like this, it still does, but this was a new side of my partner. Something I’d have never guessed although he had never held back emotional reactions to the things we had seen and experienced. I had seen him in a state of such despair, he had cried into my stomach, clutching the fabric of my blazer violently. We had gone home that night to my place and he fell asleep in my bed holding my hand. I had seen him cry and cry and cry until he had fallen silent with his head on my lap, his body finally giving in to sleep. We had spent the following day driving. Just driving, nothing else. No words needed. I had seen him breaking everything in his apartment after a particularly bad case. Afterwards, we had cleaned and ordered dinner. I had stayed the night and we had continued our work as usual.

I began to realize that this was Fox Mulder, all of him, completely exposed to me. The man who doesn’t know how to give up - not on cases nor people. The man who always know how to tease and taunt, to make people laugh. The man with the brilliant mind who knows how to get to people better than anyone else.

And sometimes, late at night, it would be too much. The fear of the unknown, the fear of failing, the fear of being inadequate eating him up. He’d always come to me in the dark and I’d be there to soothe him, to hold out a hand through the night, and when the early morning started to shine its first beams inside wherever we were in the world, after slipping in and out of sleep, he’d start talking. He’d tell me all of his worries, he’d trust me like that, and I’d tell him to trust me to be there.

He squeezes my hand softly, his shaking subsiding gradually, sleep overpowering him. His skin has warmed up against me and I fall asleep to the familiar scent of him, my nose burrowed between his shoulders. This is where I go to be at home.  

I wake up when the first beams reach my face and something tickles my face softly. Fingers. It’s fingers brushing hair away from my eyes, lightly caressing my cheekbones.

“Don’t wake up,” he whispers so close to my face, I can feel his breath. A soft sigh escapes my lips and I want to stay right here in this dreamy moment forever. He’s warm against me and it all really does feel like a sweet dream.

“Dana Scully, you’re so beautiful,” he says with such affection it almost hurts.

Hands reach my back, follows the curve of it, rising goosebumps on every inch there, until he reaches my underwear. I half-heartedly help him take them off without moving much, still feeling drunk on sleep.

“Don’t open your eyes,” he whispers, lifting my thigh on top of his. I suddenly feel hot and weak in his arms.

“Okay, Fox Mulder,” I whisper back and can’t help but chuckle lightly, anticipation sobering me up.

Soft, full lips reach mine delicately as if they were made of petals. Then, once again, more firmly, his parting lips inviting me in for more. More of him. I kiss him back as the tip of his tongue lightly touches my upper lip. He’s hard against me when he asks if I’m ready. I nod softly, gasping against his mouth when I feel his hardness pressing against me. He takes hold of my thigh to get closer before guiding himself to me as he enters in one long stroke. His nose is burrowed in my hair, soft moans around us, lazy, but ever so perfect, thrusts make me think I have to be asleep. The scent of his neck is tantalizing and I can’t help but kiss him there as his thrusts get more urgent.. deeper. Kisses turns to gasps as he cries out my name and I go rigid in his arms. His breathing is deep in my hair as he slips out of me and I relax again in the warm embrace of his arms.

“Good morning,” I say still burrowed in the crook of his neck. He chuckles.

“Good morning,” his hoarse voice sounds. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I am too,” I say and open my eyes to find his. “Never doubt that.”

Lying here in his arms, feeling his warmth and love, all of him, I know that when I tell him how it ends, how it will always end with me and him, it’s not just to soothe him.

I believe it too.


End file.
